"I'll admit I may have seen better days,
but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail,
like a salted
peanut"(Margo Channing)

Saturday, 11 October 2014

" Work Gets In The Way, doesn't it Alfie Boe?"

Alfie Boe......the noisy fucker

It's Saturday and Chris has had to go into work. He's been away all week, went to bed knackered at 7.30 last night and was up at 6.00 am with the cockerel. Having said this, he wasn't up with the new cockerel for the little bastard was crying lustily at 3.00 am, 4..00 am and again at 5. The neighbours are going to have a fit, at least he slept through it all.
They ( the neighbours) were very nice about things when he first arrived, for they understood that he preferred to roost in the Beech tree in the graveyard...the one right next to the light in the lane. Subsequently he's awake in the wee small hours, and so belts out a lusty pubescent cock-a-fucking doodle whatever throughout the night. One neighbour, rather diplomatically, described him as resembling the tenor Alfie Boe.
" he's only small but he has a big voice" she explained
Well I am sure she called him something else last night for the bugger escaped from his sound proof hen house ( where I had effectively imprisoned him a week ago) and back up the tree he went again.
I shall have to recapture him today, for I didn't get much sleep last night.....and unlike Chris who slept a good eight hours, my eyeballs resemble two fried eggs in a bucket of blood.
I thank goodness that I don't work the hours I once did when I was a ward manager. If I did, Chris and I would never see each other. The house would be left to wrack and ruin, and there couldn't be any animal in the cottage,( let alone a gobby cockerel up in the trees) .....
No my work and it's one long shift a week is the easier work to juggle.....
Having said this....I am mortified to see that I am working Monday night.......
Monday night.....no big deal I hear you cry
Oh fucking no!
It's the night The Walking Dead season 5 premiers in the UK!
I am devastated that I'll have to wait until Tuesday to see it!

Gently simmered cockerel in stock with plenty of veg makes a couple of delicious meals - in any case if he lives up a tree in the churchyard one day he will meet his waterloo in the shape of a crafty fox who hangs around until he comes down..

Can't you re-name him? I've had the hots for the real Alfie B. since first espying him and I don't want that perfect image sullied by a cock that keeps wanting to draw attention to itself. Talking of which, how about 'Justin'?

Marcy has a rooster that looks similar. We call ours Loud Mouth on a good day. He does not need a street light to crow. He announces every hour it seems. I used to think he was cute but now I dream of ways he can be deleted.

I will watch the season premier for you since you got me hooked on this show my nephew described as "a soap opera with zombies". I agree with Kim, got any sick days?

I don't know how you keep up with yourself, John. Miss Chef and I used to have opposite schedules and it sucked. I'm sure Chris appreciates the fresh pies and bleached bog. (As long as you remember to rinse it.)

One of my neighbours at my last location had chickens, and in one batch of chicks, she had a number of cockerels. She did keep a few but killed the rest. One only got noisy after she thinned the herd, as it were. She would apologise for his crowing, but I tended to sleep through it until just before my usual wakeup time. Himself awoke every time the cock crowed. As the rooster got older, he had less to say or at least voiced it less often.